The Proposal
by SoMuchDepends
Summary: Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe have a complicated history. And if Gil could just stop staring at her like that, things might well simplify. Prequel to The Wedding. Modern.
1. Chapter 1

Sooooooooo, I really can't give up these characters, and I love this part of the story anyway. So here is a prequel of sorts to The Wedding! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all your support; it really means more than you'll ever know :)

* * *

"Anne Shirley, get your perfect little nose and other attached body parts down here right now!" Philippa Gordon yelled up the creaky, anciently wooden staircase of Patty's Place.

In her room, Anne sat pensively, lifting her gray eyes up to the mottled mirror of her vanity table. Staring at her reflection, Anne felt a distance between herself and the mirrored girl. Things were changing rapidly, and Anne felt like she could hardly keep up. Life was changing, and she was, too.

A sophomore at Redmond University, Anne was a different version of the girl who stumbled upon Phil in a cemetery and struggled to find the dining hall. Her mind had grown more cultivated. Her manner more reserved. Her eyes deeper. And she knew her transition was not nearly finished. But she tried not to mourn her past self too greatly.

"I will remember who I was," Anne whispered to her reflection. "And I will enjoy who I am now."

But one thing troubled Anne the most. Lunch today had quite unsettled her mind.

"The way he—" Anne began to murmur, when Phil's voice echoed up the stairway once more.

"Annnnnnnne, I'm dying down here! Are you being melodramatic again? I can't see you, but I just feel like you are!"

Anne spent one last second fortifying her strength with the help of her second self in the mirror, and then she exited her room and flew down the stairs.

Phil was impatiently leaning against the door, checking her phone for messages.

"Thank goodness! I thought you were going to be up there all night, honey," Phil sighed, exasperatedly. "You know we have to go to these things. Keep up appearances and all that."

Phil had become quite popular at Redmond, and Anne, by association and her own right, enjoyed a similar experience. However, Phil was right; with popularity brought the responsibility of party-going. And Anne was feeling a little too introspective tonight for a party, but Phil had practically begged her.

"Alex and Allen both wanted me to attend with them, but I told them I was going to have a girls' night of it," Phil had begged the night before as the two girls typed up papers at their kitchen table. "Please don't make me a complete liar, Anne? Pretty please? I'll take you to the coffee shop by the club afterwards and you can have anything you want! I promise."

So Anne had complied, and now the two girls were walking downtown to a party neither really wanted to attend. Taking place in a club at the center of Kingsport, the party was sure to be reasonably fashionable. In a building of weathered bricks and warped wooden frames, the club occupied a quaint upstairs flat, perfect for an upscale college event hosted by the campus student leadership.

"Anne, I asked what do you think about that?" Phil's words sliced through Anne's foggy mind.

"Oh, can you repeat what you were saying? I had my brain turned off," Anne murmured apologetically, as the two girls turned the corner of a newly renovated organic restaurant.

"Oh, sweetie, Gil told me you were in a bit of a haze today. He said after your lunch together, he practically had to point you in the direction of your mathematics class. But no matter! I was just asking if you thought my idea for choosing between Alex or Allen was legitimate. You see, I was thinking of texting them both at the same time to meet me somewhere, and then the first one I see is the one I'll pick. A bit simplistic, a little up to fate, I know, but what do you think?"

Anne was rattled by Phil's mention of Gil, but she kept her thoughts from straying back to her lunch mate. Phil deserved her full attention now.

"Well, Phil, I'm not really sure that's the way I would do it, but don't you think you'd rather just wait until you know yourself which one you like better, rather than leaving it up to chance. I mean there's just so many variables: phone signal, how far away they are individually, if either has to drive or get gas for his car," Anne answered earnestly while the two women approached the building where the party was held. "And anyway, who says it has to be Alex or Allen? Why must you be with one of them? Just because you've known them the longest? Because everyone expects you to choose one of them?"

Anne felt her face flush and her heart rate increase; Phil's problem struck close to home, and Anne felt her mind whirring with thoughts of her earlier encounter.

"Why can't we just have fun and not change all the time?" Anne blurted out. "Let's just have fun. Let them gossip about our love lives and think what they want! We don't have to choose and ruin everything!"

"I know what you mean, love," Phil replied sincerely, a touch of sadness in her usually shining eyes. "Thanks for giving me feedback, too. I'll just start thinking of other plans to choose. Or get rid of them. Do you think if I asked them both to travel to the Sahara and bring me back a snowball, they'd do it?"

Anne and Phil both laughed as they ascended the claustrophobic staircase to the club's entrance on the second floor of the building.

As they entered the crowded party and split up to cover more ground, Anne felt her deeper thoughts creeping in, fueled by Phil's previous comments.

Her lunch with Gil had shaken her peace, and not because of anything Gil had said. Well, not exactly.

As Anne weaved through the ocean of laughing classmates, she remembered the way most of her conversations with Gil had been unfolding lately. Every exchange was laced heavily with subtext, bobbing between lighthearted nostalgia, her desperate inputs, and weighted comments, Gil's responses. She felt the undercurrent of change flowing into her relationship with Gil, and she resisted. But eventually, Anne knew… well, she just knew. The way every exchange ended lately cemented that hazy, yet certain knowledge: as Anne cheerfully deferred Gil's final subtext-laden response, his eyes would settle on hers with an unmistakable expression.

An expression Anne caught by chance as she gazed over the partygoers. An expression that began to cut across the party to her. The atmosphere shifted, and Anne knew a storm brewed ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

Gilbert Blythe had always known a few things. He knew he wanted to be a doctor. He knew he wanted to go to Redmond University. He knew he really, really disliked garlic. And he knew he was head-over-heels in love with Anne Shirley. And life always had an obnoxious knack for complicating that last one.

In the beginning, no matter how desperately he tried to be friends with Anne Shirley, she would have none of it.

"I even saved her from the drowning, and she still hated me!" Gil thought exasperatedly.

And now, no matter how desperately he tried to be friends with Anne Shirley, he was having trouble.

"I really thought that this could be enough: just being friends. Best friends. But it's not. I don't know why I can't just wait until she comes around, but I can't," Gil lamented. "I have to tell her how much I love her. I really just can't be her friend anymore. Not when I feel like this about her."

So Gil wrestled within himself for the right time to reveal everything to Anne. And to his credit, he managed to control himself for a year or so.

However, by the time sophomore year came around for the pair, Gil was fit to burst. He began to drop hints. He would let his sentences wander into a meaningful glance. He became a master of subtext. He was her date for nearly every Redmond social event.

And with any other girl, these gestures might have warmed the water a bit. But Gil did not love Anne because she was just like any other girl. On some level, Gil knew Anne understood how he truly felt. But more importantly, he knew Anne would ignore that comprehension until the day he died.

And that was why he had to tell her.

So one week he made up his mind to tell Anne Shirley. There was a party coming up, and he knew Anne wouldn't want to stay very long.

"She told me that she was going to be busy that week: a literature analysis due, a ton of readings, and she had picked up a few extra shifts at the library for a friend! She won't want to stay very long, and I could offer to walk her home," Gil planned. "And then on the way home, I'll take a detour through the park that she loves so much, the one with the ancient fountain and the swing set. And I'll tell her."

Unfortunately, Phil threw a wrench in his plan and asked Anne to accompany her to the party before he could.

"I was too swamped with Anatomy to see her," Gil grumbled. "Stupid Phil."

But he did manage to arrange lunch with Anne the day of the party. They had talked of everything and nothing, but at the end of the lunch, Gil had felt that progress had definitely been made. Anne had seemed to pick up on his hints, hints which had been growing increasingly less subtle as he endured the wait. When they parted, Anne had spaced out a little, giving him the opportunity to guide her in the direction of her next class. He always wanted to help the independent Anne so it was nice to be able to every once in a while, even a small thing like that. And, he admitted to himself smilingly, placing his hand on the small of her back wasn't entirely necessary but very nice.

Later, he had run into Phil. Now if Anne sensed his hints and refused to acknowledge them, Phil picked up his hints and overanalyzed every single one. Fortunately for Gil, though Phil knew about his feeling for Anne, she had never revealed them or confronted Anne about them. Gil remembered a day when a group of their mutual friends had gathered after a game at a friend's house. He had been trying to make Anne laugh in the kitchen when she had excused herself to the restroom. Suddenly, a voice broke through the murmur of the crowd, despite being barely more than a whisper.

"You're in love with her, Gil," Phil had said. "And she knows but doesn't want to admit it, does she? And you're a little too scared to lose her…."

Gil felt his eyes connect with Phil's and a mutual understanding passed between them. He didn't know Phil very well back then, but he sensed they both knew the more painful and confusing aspects of love.

"You won't tell Anne—" Gil began.

"Phil! What are you teasing Gil about? His newest crush?" Anne had returned from the restroom.

"Wellllll," Phil countered, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Not his newest."

Anne had laughed, and the subject was dropped in favor of cookie dough and spoons.

Phil knew everything about the situation, from both angles. So when Gil ran into her that day, he felt safe to drop of few more hints about his intention for the party that night. And Phil understood. Even a few minutes before Anne and Phil arrived at the party, Gil had been receiving encouraging and funny texts from Phil. Apparently, Anne was being melodramatic.

But nevertheless, Phil knew his intentions, and he knew he needed to tell Anne before he exploded.

And as her bright head weaved throughout the dimly-lit party, Gil felt the winds change and a storm brewed on the horizon.

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Thank you to those who followed and reviewed my story! You're the reason I keep on writing these :)


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry, for the wait, guys! I was busy with exams, and then I was busy with friends and parties and commitments, and then I was busy because I started working two jobs, and then I was just straight-up-now-tell-me lazy. Buuuuuuuuut, I hope this is worth the wait.

* * *

Gil sought and cornered Anne, attaching himself to her side for the entirety of the party. As for Anne, she grew increasingly weary as the endless conversations murmured on and the pair wove throughout their friends. Slumping on Gil's side, Anne gave up on the night.

"I'm tired, Gil. I think I'm just going to go home…"

"Let me walk you home?" Gil asked, smiling down at Anne's head propped against his arm.

"Er, no, I don't think—" Anne tried to extricate her arm from his and pull away.

"Please, Anne? If I don't completely monopolize your time, people will get suspicious, you know?" Gil teased, retaining his hold on her hand.

Anne's face twitched with discomfort.

"Oh, Gil, I don't know… I was trying to get home quickly. I'm exhausted."

"I won't take too much of your time, Anne. Not without cause!" Gil pleaded, both his hands anchoring hers.

Anne's weary eyes searched Gil's face and found what she had been dreading.

"Okay," she relented, her stomach twisting uneasily.

"Good," Gil said, his eyes sparkling with hope. Tonight was the night, and he just needed to be brave.

So the pair exited the party, catching quite a few eyes. Redmond was awaiting an engagement any day now, and the hopeful shine on Gil's face and Anne clutching his arm indicated the wait would soon end.

Phil, surrounded by friends near the door, caught both hazel and grey eyes as they passed through the door. The contrasting expressions, excitement and anxiety, made Phil laugh nervously. This night was not going to go just as Anne suspected.

But Phil hoped for the best.

* * *

Anne and Gil descended the staircase in silence. Once they turned out of the building, though, Gil began to chatter anxiously.

"I thought we could stop by that park you love so much? It's a beautiful night, and it's only 9:40ish…"

Anne felt the weight of exhaustion and dread bear down on her body.

"Gil, I don't know…"

"I could get you coffee first! At that place you and Phil like?" Gil scrambled to keep his plan in order.

"Uh, I suppose…." Anne agreed.

So Anne found herself adding a third shot to her drink as Gil fidgeted beside her. The line had not been nearly long enough for Anne, and the barista made her drink within a matter of minutes. Anne wished to linger in the comforting glow of the hanging strings of light bulbs and antique lamps, but Gil pulled her out into the stark night as soon as she stirred sugar in her drink.

"Feeling better?" Gil questioned concernedly.

"Mmm," Anne pretended to sip her obviously scalding coffee.

"I'm sorry to keep you out… but we haven't had much time alone, lately" Gil said. "At least, not like we did back in Avonlea."

"I know, Gil," Anne sighed. "I've just been so busy, you know…"

Gil and Anne approached the ivy-covered iron front gate of the park.

"I know," Gil replied softly. His mind whirred with prepared speeches and transitions, and his hands twitched uneasily in his pockets, one hand brushing the little circlet.

"Yeah," Anne said automatically, never feeling so unsafe and uncomfortable with Gil.

The pair wandered through the park, each building up a particular brand of courage. Anne looked up to sky where murky clouds erased the stars one by one; losing her focus in the sky, Anne missed Gil's comment. She was brought back to earth by the sound of her name.

"Anne?" Gil repeated.

He had stopped walking a few steps behind Anne, gesturing to a cove of birches. Following him into the ivory trees, Anne felt her stomach drop to China. She found a large boulder amongst the birches and propped herself against it for support; she would need it.

"Anne…" Gil said, easing softly into conversation.

"Yes," Anne replied, her eyes fixed on the ground.

"I need to tell you something… and ask you something," Gil said, his voice not much above the breeze whistling through the leaves.

"Gil," Anne began.

"Please, let me get it out," Gil cut in.

"No, no, please don't!" Anne pleaded, her eyebrows drawing together as she finally met Gil's eyes.

"Anne, please," Gil said, launching into his speech. "I love you. So much. Since you first smashed that white board over my head in math class. I need you to know. Well, I know you know, but I need to say it, and I need you to hear it. Anne, I love you, and I need you. I need you to say—"

"Stop! Gil, stop!" Anne cried out, her breath shorting out.

"No, Anne, please. I need you to say you love me too. Finally. I need you to say…" Gil breathed, sinking down in front of her. "Yes."

The moment seared itself into both of the participant's minds. Anne glanced from Gil's hopeful face to the sparkle in his hand. Gil fixed his eyes on Anne's stormy expression.

"Anne, I—"

"Gil, please—"

The moment paused again.

"I can't," Anne said.

"No, I…. you can, Anne. I love you, and…"

Anne held up her hand.

"Gil, I can't say yes," Anne replied firmly.

"Anne…"

"I don't love you."

Gil's face drained of color and his eyes deadened. Anne felt guilt flood her system for causing that reaction, but she continued on.

"I'm sorry if I led you on, but we were never supposed to be more than friends," Anne said. "I love you as my friend, Gil, my best friend."

Gil scoffed and rose to his feet.

"You know, Anne, I'm not sure what to do," Gil spat, running one hand through his hair while shoving the ring into his pocket with the other. "I wait for you for years. I practically worship at your feet. I give you every implication that I'm madly in love with you, and you don't have the decency to let me know you couldn't care less about me."

"Gil, that's not what I meant! I care for you so much!" Anne said, placing a hand on Gil's shoulder. "You're my best friend. Please, say we'll be friends. I need us to be friends."

Gil glanced at her hand before taking it in his.

"Friends… It's funny, Anne. I begged you to be my friend for years and years, and now that I want more than that, you find yourself in my former position. How does it feel, huh?"

"That was cruel, Gil," Anne said, her eyelids dropping as she pulled her hand from his.

"Well, I should hate to be cruel," Gil whispered with a trace of malice. "Of course we can be friends. It's always nice to have fragments of my heart underneath your feet, isn't it, Anne? Does it give you power? Does it make our friendship feel stronger to you?"

"How dare you, Gilbert?" Anne said, her voice raised. "I'm sorry I didn't dispel your romantic notions earlier. I'm sorry I didn't treat you better when I was eleven. I'm sorry—"

"Oh, please, Anne—"

"No, I can do whatever I want, Gilbert Blythe, and I am done listening to you blame this on me. I don't recall signing any contract obliging me to marry you, and I am not responsible for fulfilling whatever fantasies you have concerning your life and your perception of mine."

Gil stepped further back, and Anne clung to the crags of the boulder.

"If you aren't content with my friendship, then…" Anne continued. "Then… I guess, that's it."

"I guess it is," Gil replied lifelessly, shuffling back further.

The birches and the breeze and the clouds watched the estrangement of the pair. A low rumble of thunder dispelled the silence and Gil's voice followed.

"Goodbye, Anne."

Anne did not process his departure until after he had disappeared from sight. Her breath shallowed, and her heart beat painfully. Her thoughts materialized from the clearing haze, and she felt her hands grab her cold coffee cup and her feet move towards home. Lights and cars flashed past, and by some miracle, Anne found herself rounding the cobblestone pathway to Patty's Place just as the first raindrops drummed against the plastic lid of her drink.

The End


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